The corridors were nearly empty as Mika and Kuro walked side by side, the faint torchlight casting flickering shadows on the stone walls. The silence between them was thick, charged with everything that had nearly happened in the library.
Kuro finally broke it. "You didn't have to stop back there." His voice was calm, but his eyes betrayed the racing of his heart.
Mika's jaw tightened. "I should've never started."
[Oh, for f***'s sake. Don't listen to him, Kuro. He wanted it as much as you did. Probably more.]
{I know.}
Mika's head shifted almost imperceptibly, like he'd caught the exchange, and a faint flush crept over his ears. He quickened his pace, as though distance could erase it.
They turned a corner, stepping into the quiet of an unused classroom Mika had led them toward. He shut the door behind them with a low thud.
"Why are we in here?" Kuro asked, his voice soft but steady.
"Because I don't like being watched," Mika said simply, his pale eyes narrowing. But the way they lingered on Kuro made the truth obvious—he hadn't wanted to wait until they were back in the dorms.
Kuro stepped closer, refusing to let the distance stretch between them again. "Then don't push me away this time."
Mika's breath hitched, almost inaudible. His fingers twitched at his side before he finally closed the gap in one swift motion. His hand gripped Kuro's jaw, tilting his head up, and his lips crashed against Kuro's.
The kiss wasn't gentle. It was sharp, heated, almost desperate, as though Mika had been holding himself back for far too long. Kuro leaned into it, responding without hesitation, his own hand rising to clutch Mika's sleeve.
[Holy s***. He actually did it. He kissed you. About f***ing time!]
{Shut up, Elvastia.}
[What?! No way. I'm not shutting up during this. This is history, damn it—]
Mika pulled back just slightly, his breath uneven, his cheeks flushed with a faint, betraying pink. "You really don't know when to quit," he muttered, though his forehead rested against Kuro's as if refusing to let him go.
Kuro smiled softly, his own breath quick. "Or maybe I just know when not to give up."
Mika's grip tightened at his jaw, his eyes darkening. "Idiot," he whispered again, but this time the word was rough, strained, and far too tender.
[Oh my god, I can't do this. You're both s*** at pretending you don't care. This is torture.]
Kuro let out a quiet laugh, only for Mika to silence it with another kiss—slower this time, deeper, as though he was finally letting himself taste what he'd been denying.
When they finally broke apart, Mika's voice was low, roughened at the edges. "This doesn't leave this room."
Kuro leaned closer, his smile both soft and daring. "Then we'll just have to come back here often."
For once, Mika had no cold retort. Just silence, his hand still lingering against Kuro's face, his blush refusing to fade.